the echoes took it up and sent it 

 back as a welcome to us from 

 their world, the world we all loved. 

 Thus we came to Te-vis-ca-bing, 

 offering shelter and camp-fire hos- 

 pitality, its outlines showing in the 

 half-light of a rising moon. Even 

 as we looked, two red eyes shot 

 forth a light had been made from 

 within. 



Good we thought, Creche and 

 the Cook have arrived, and all goes 

 well for a start on the trail 

 to-morrow. We were all keenly impa- 

 tient of any roof but a canvas one, 

 and in the woods where one takes 

 only necessities, to be separated from 

 the supplies is like a caravan in the 

 desert without water, a steamer in 

 mid-ocean without coal. 



Our satisfaction, alas, was short 

 lived. We soon found that Clifford, 

 an Indian game warden, whom our 

 thoughtful host had informed of our 

 coming, had started the glowing wel- 

 come of the hearth, and Creche with 

 our precious supplies was still an 

 unknown quantity. So was the 

 Cook, but a cook without cookables 

 does not count. 



